


something safe

by philseye



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Depression, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sad and Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 21:30:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17394062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philseye/pseuds/philseye
Summary: dan wakes up alone in a downcast mood. sometimes nothing is wrong and it still hurts.





	something safe

He wakes up in a funk. The air around him feels thick and suffocating. It’s something you’d think he’d be used to by now, surely. He’s been through multiple years of therapy and went through a period where he was prescribed medication to try and subdue the beast in his brain that drains his capacity to care, to love, and to feel, from him. He is used to it, technically. But, being used to it, knowing what it is, recognizing when it flares up and receiving help for it; all those things don’t guarantee that every day you’ll know exactly how to deal with it without breaking. 

Today is one of those days, and it’s his own fault; he’s well aware of that. He knows he shouldn’t have stayed up as late as he did, but in the early hours, he managed to convince himself that it was the weekend and there was no harm in staying up a little later than he usually would. He was wrong. Phil had asked him to come to bed, _please, I want a cuddle; Dan, you know you shouldn’t be up this late_ , but his words had felt so patronizing, and god damn it, he’s a twenty-seven-year-old man and if he wants to stay up late on the weekend, he’s going to. Phil didn’t try to argue with him, he’d learned through the years that there was no point. When Dan has his mind set on doing something, there’s no changing it. Of course, Phil was right. He always is, that bastard. 

He distantly wishes he could’ve woken up with Phil’s body still securely wrapped around his. Phil did tell him he had plans today, though; some art gallery he originally wanted to visit with Dan, but Dan said he wanted to sleep in so Phil decided to go with his brother instead. Nothing out of the usual for them, but now that he’s alone he wishes that he’d just woken up and went with him, or asked Phil to stay, _anything_ other than this. It’s Dan’s typical futile thinking that he reverts to when he’s reminded just how much he hates being apart from Phil.

It’s already midday when he conjures just enough energy to haul himself out of bed and move in the direction of their en suite. Surely, a hot soak with a lavender scented bath bomb can fix this dismal mood he woke up in, right? Nothing wrong with at least trying, he thinks. 

It’s only when he’s fully sprawled out in the bath that he realizes he should’ve brought his phone with him. He needs a distraction from his own head, even if that’s just a stupid app on his phone; something to keep his thoughts from spiraling. Losing his metaphorical footing happens way too easily on days like these, and it’s much harder to gain back. Especially when he’s alone.

He makes it through the bath without having a major breakdown, but he can feel himself growing uncomfortably close to the edge of that cliff. He hates himself for it. He feels useless that he can’t handle this on his own, that he becomes a vulnerable shell of himself when Phil isn’t around to hold him together. _It’s not his job to do that_ , his brain nags.

He strolls back over to the bed and finally picks up his phone from the bedside table and checks it. He has four texts from Phil and a few work emails. _Fuck sake, it’s the weekend, leave me alone_ , he thinks. He’s leaving those work emails until Monday, or at least until he doesn’t feel like shit. He sits down on the bed with a towel still wrapped loosely around his waist and opens Phil’s messages.

 **phil:** Left you some Haribo on the dining table x  
**phil:** Don’t ask when I got them  
**phil:** I just left and I miss you already, is that pathetic?

The last one is more recent.

 **phil:** This art exhibit is weird. Just saw a painting of an orgy. Wish you were here

He smiles tightly at his phone. He feels somewhat less guilty about missing Phil now knowing that he is feeling exactly the same. They really are _that_ couple.

 **dan:** thanks. and if you’re pathetic then i’m pathetic too  
**dan:** when will you be home

He closes his messages and plays some strange adventure game on his phone while he waits for a reply. It arrives fairly quickly.

 **phil:** Not sure :( Martyn wants to grab lunch after

He inhales sharply in disappointment and then his phone pings again.

 **phil:** I can ditch him if I need to, everything ok?

His stomach twists into a knot. Most times he marvels at the telepathic communication he and Phil seem to possess, both taking pride in knowing each other’s thoughts without having to speak them aloud, but times like this it only makes Dan feel wretched. He does want him to come home, of course he does, but he can’t bring himself to ask for it; it’d only make him feel more burdensome.

**dan:** i’m fine. don’t worry about it go hang out with your brother 

He rubs at his eyes as they’re starting to go out of focus. Another ping. 

**phil:** You sure?  
**dan:** positive 

****

He’s not. Ping. 

**phil:** Okay. I’ll bring you home something tasty x  
**dan:** ♥  


Dan sighs loudly and drops his towel to the floor so he’s standing stark naked in their room. He runs a hand through his brown curls and quickly finds something to wear. He’s pretty sure what he throws on is one of Phil’s shirts, but it’s comfortable and he needs that right now. Plus, Phil won’t care. Dan’s always been the one that is nitpicky about sharing clothes. _You can’t eat curry in my thousand pound Vetements hoodie, Phil_ , he’d nag. He’s always met with a fond eye roll that makes him incapable of actually forcing Phil to change out of the borrowed clothes. Plus he looks really damn good in them. 

****

****

He loves Phil. Even when his brain is making things difficult for him and even when he can’t communicate his love verbally or physically, it still exists there in his heart. That won’t change. He likes to think Phil understands that. 

\- 

Enough time passes of Dan anxiously moving from room to room in their flat doing fuck-all that he starts to get antsy. Surely, Phil should’ve grabbed lunch and traveled back home by now, but he’s not. He hates being the interrogating type, Phil is allowed to go out and have fun without having to answer to him, but today he needs him. He deems there’s no harm in asking. 

**dan:** where are you at you spoon 

He moves from one couch to the other and puts headphones in and tries to listen to music as a way distract himself. It works for a good ten minutes before he’s rereading his and Phil’s texts anxiously. _Fuck it, I’ll just call him_ , he thinks. 

The phone rings three times before Phil’s picking up. 

“Hello?” Phil half questions half greets.  
“Hi,” Dan exhales. “Where are you?”  
“Martyn dragged me to a pub and we’re having drinks, sorry,” Phil answers. He sounds far away like he’s not really focused on the phone call.  
“Oh, you didn’t tell me,” Dan says weakly. He doesn’t intend to seem as hurt as he ends up sounding.  
“Yeah, sorry I got caught up, I shouldn’t be out too long.”  
“Okay.” Dan near whispers. His heart is caught in his throat.  
“Okay, I have to go now, love you.”  
“Love—” The phone call ends before Dan can finish. 

If this were any other day where he wasn’t emotionally vulnerable, it really wouldn’t be a big deal. Rushed phone calls happen all the time and it doesn’t mean anything is awry. But, after hours of his own brain reminding him how worthless and maybe even _unwanted_ he is, it’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back. He’s almost immediately crying after putting his phone down; quietly at first, choking on a sob, before it turns into genuine bawling. He knows it’s not just because Phil rushed him off the phone, but it doesn’t matter at this point. Now everything is surfacing, and he’s alone to deal with the mess. 

He needs to get the fuck out this flat. The walls around him feel like they’re closing in and swallowing him whole. Where the hell will he go? He doesn’t want to see anyone, he doesn’t want to have to answer to anybody; he himself doesn’t really understand what’s wrong. 

He shoves his feet into a pair of shoes and bolts out of the flat and down the stairs, unsure of where exactly he’s going, just out. He needs fresh air. He decides to leave his phone behind like he used to do before he started attending therapy. He promised Phil he’d stop doing that back then, but then again he’s never been too great at keeping promises. _Yet another reason for him to be irritated with me_ , he thinks. 

\- 

The sun has set by the time Dan makes it to a random park, because winter is ominous like that and the sun disappears around 4 pm, and now he’s shivering. He should’ve worn a heavier coat and probably some gloves, but just as well maybe he’ll get sick. He deserves it. Somewhere deep in his brain, he’s conscious of the fact that he’s being dramatic but it doesn’t change anything because these feelings are sincere to him. He does deserve to get sick, to feel discomfort, for the outside to match the way he feels on the inside. 

It’s most likely around six when he returns home, but it feels much later than that. His body is heavy and aching from the cold and he just wants to fall apart in his bed and sleep for a week. He can’t, he knows, but he wants to. 

When he shoves the key into the door and pulls it open, he sees Phil, who meets his gaze with a panicked look. 

“Oh, thank god, you’re ok,” Phil says as he closes the gap between them and pulls Dan into an embrace. Dan steadies his hand on Phil’s shoulder pushes back a little. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, obviously,” Dan mutters under his breath. Phil winces at the scorn in Dan’s voice. 

“Where’d you go? Why are you so red?” Phil puzzles as he now holds Dan’s hands in his own. “You’re freezing, love, and you didn’t take your phone with you.” Phil kisses his palm and then juts out his bottom lip. He really is worried; the truth of that tugs at Dan’s heart. He can’t be angry with him, he didn’t even do anything wrong. 

“Yeah.” Dan coughs. “Went for a walk. Needed some air.” 

Phil doesn’t question him anymore, slowly coming to realize that Dan is having one of his bad days and he probably doesn’t want to be interrogated about it. He’s just relieved that he’s back home now. 

So, instead, Phil switches into doting boyfriend mode. Making sure Dan is warming up, fetching him a mug of festive tea that’s left over from the holidays, and wrapping his sad pimp blanket around him. Of course, Dan initially objects to all the affection, whining that he can take care of himself and that he just wants to go to sleep. Phil’s not having it though, he’s learned to just take care of Dan even when he’s protesting on the days where Dan doesn’t have his own best interests in mind. 

They’re both sat on the couch, Dan resting his head on Phil’s soft shoulder while some stupid episode of Riverdale plays on the television. Dan’s not watching it, he’s really stopped doing that since the seasons have progressively gotten worse, but it’s familiar and it feels like home. Phil’s not really watching either, his fingers are laced between Dan’s, and every couple of minutes he’s pressing his lips to Dan’s cheek, to his mouth, to his jaw. A silent reminder that he’s here to hold him together when he can’t do it on his own. 

It’s safe, Dan’s safe, and deep down he knows he always will be. Even on the days his brain tries to convince him otherwise. 

**Author's Note:**

> i post my fics on @philseye on tumblr if you want to reblog :) i hope you enjoyed.


End file.
